The Royal Circus

Kate, Wills and Baby George visited my neck of the woods recently and unless you had your head buried securely in the sand nobody was going to let you avoid the hype of the ‘Royal Tour’. The media has had a field day the last three weeks documenting every baby smile, commenting on every billowing skirt, and analysing every exchange of words as the couple and their new offspring appeared at one publicity stunt after another, spreading their brand of sophisticated restraint to monarchists throughout the Antipodes. And while more than 500 journalists from across the world were covering the story for 30 000 separate news reports and 25 front page stories the rest of the world news got brushed aside. According to one source only 1 Australian journalist was in the Ukraine reporting on the crisis in Crimea, and another is the solo reporter on the descending chaos in South Sudan from neighbouring Kenya.

As we watched every moment of Kate and Baby George at a local play school where were the reports raising awareness and promoting action regarding the 200 school girls abducted and still missing in Nigeria for wanting to receive an education? While we were repeatedly told which designer Kate was wearing and her outfits analysed in depth each and every day who was informing us of the urgency of the UN to deliver basic aid to the millions fleeing their homes in Syria as civil war escalates? And as we watched as the Royal couple were escorted around the base of Uluru, one of the country’s most well known Aboriginal sites, where was the air time to address the negative social attitudes towards Indigenous Australians that exist?

I am not against the Royal family – I am a bit indifferent really. I feel that being allocated a life of such excess will never satisfy the human soul and probably it is more of a burden than those of us outside would fully understand. I acknowledge they often use their status to promote worthy causes and highlight issues of importance with the uncontroversial moderation they are allowed and in the celebrity obsessed world we live in perhaps their actions can have huge ripple effects. But when the persecution, deaths and dislocation of the masses are left on the cutting room floor to make way for the documentation of their every movement it is a sad reflection of the shallow society we are living in.

It is getting harder and harder to source news – real-life, thought-provoking news. While these people may have descended from the top of an antiquated social hierarchy their lives are not of more value than those at the so-called bottom and bombarding me with images and ‘news’ of their lives does not educate me, inspire me or empower me. But maybe that is not what those in charge of the media want.

‘Arrogance’ by Maxamed Xaashi Dhamac ‘Gaarriye’ (Somali: b.1949-2012)

Wandered brood of Adam,
lost, bewildered people,
hear what I have to say.

Stop for a moment before the mountains
and for the simple sake of awe
be humbled, let your tears fall.

Look to, look through the air above,
be moved by the sight of stars,
watch their bodies wheel.

Ask the thunder, see what lightning says,
the rain-bearing wind which blows
the good grey cloud, ask them.

The camel's old keen for her calf,
be hushed and hear it, hear how
the birds' song weeps with it: weep with them too.

How the sea sounds out its old chorus,
what moves in its abyssal womb:
acknowledge these and what they mean.

Examine the earth at your feet,
the rush of the rivers,
raise your eyes to the clouds.

Glimpse what lies above
the auroral mist, the winds,
understand what these things have to say.

The scent of wild acacia -
inhale it, relish it, and
delight in the green of pastures.

Count up the lineage of all life,
mark the endless days and days:
this worthless arrogance of yours,
you have to let it go.

All nebulae and galaxies,
the Camel of the Southern Cross,
our own burning sun, who said these
were lit for humankind?

Before a man was made in this world
didn't Virgo blaze above?
Aren't all those gatherings of stars
far older than us?
Since when was their high light
kindled only for you?

Exactly when do you think the heavens
were told to carry out the order
‘Confine yourselves to the human race'?
If you simply ceased to be
wouldn't their light continue?
Wouldn't it be then as it is now?

Wandered brood of Adam,
your bluster is a lie.
You shared this womb with all
wild things that roam,
all roots that flourish,
you entered this world together.

All creation is your cousin,
each creature your equal
and you share an ancestor:
all living things are to you
as stick is to bark, bark to stick.
You and they are like two eyes -
when one sheds tears the other weeps.
They were not made for you alone,
nor were they created to serve.

Of everything which is, half is secret -
however things appear
the meaning is always deeper.